Peculiarities
by Valhalla Fireflies
Summary: I am the killer. I kill people. Cold. Sadistic. I'm the killing machine. When in need of a person to hate, they loathe me. So why is it that this time, she's doing all my killing and I'm doing all the hating? Killua x OC. Set 5 years after the Chimera Ant arc. Dark Mystery. Crime. Tragedy. Romance. Humour. Action. Drama. Angst. Please review and rate.
1. Chapter 1: Delirium x Hallucination

Hey there, so, I thought I should write a fanfic, therefore I wrote a fanfic. That's it, I hope you enjoy it. :) I am a completely, utterly 100% newbie at this. Please review and rate and let out all your thoughts, that would be great. Hope you enjoy, and please review.

**DISCLAIMER** : I do not own Hunter x Hunter or anything related to it. Any resemblance is purely accidental; please message me, and I will definitely change/delete it.

* * *

**Part 1: Madhouse**

**Chapter 1: Delirium x Hallucination  
**

The Church

They met here; they went on dates here; she even wanted to get married here. Instead, she was found dead in the most horrific way here.

It was a beautiful church; golden statues, shimmering diamond chandeliers and the ivory columns spiraling up, melting into the magnificent stained-glass dome ceiling. Even the picture of Mother Mary on top was gorgeous. Just one step inside is enough to take your breath away. His breath was also taken away, but not that way.

Instead he was trembling, breath hitching, pieces slowly shattering inside; with his fingers indenting the glass and a face poorly hidden in the shadows; he would never admit it; admit that, just like us, he - Killua Zoldyck was also crying.

We were far away, letting the silence continue as we watched the single tear rolled down his clenched jaw, plopping gently onto the marbled, glass coffin.

The light continued to shine through the stain-glassed ceilings.

White doves continued to fly by the windows.

More silence. More tears.

So we left.

* * *

Killua

I waited, until their footsteps were all gone, until I could no longer feel their Nen. I waited some more, then, just like that, snap, I demolished. All that rage, all that sadness flew out. Roaring adrenaline rushed through me as I made sure everything had collided with my fingers, turning it all into blackened junk. Columns, stained glass, statues, flowers; every, single, thing.

But that still wasn't enough.

What did Einsa do? _My_ Einsa. Why did she deserve this?

No. She didn't deserve it. End of story. Period.

A schizophrenic episode gone wrong?

And she even lives in an asylum.

_Fuck it._

I could feel the monster rumbling again. The ecstasy riding high, urging my instincts to take over. It was almost deafening, the pounding of my blood; and the yearn for hers.

_Tch.._. who's a bitch? She's a bitch. And it's time to play... _let's kill the bitch._

* * *

The Asylum

**3:15:00 a.m.**

Exact.

Luafer woke her up. Argh. Where am I?

A flurry of crimson clouded her vision, then slowly cleared out into the scribbled wall, with patches of smeared white everywhere. _Oh, so I'm just in my room. Hmm. I still need to cover up those blank spaces._

A sudden yank. She yelped.

"Ahhh! Agh, go away... I wanna sleep."

**"Get your ass up, dumb-hoe. You think you deserve sleep? Who do you think you are? Huh?"**

"Eh... But you said I'll be able to sleep in today if I opened up her head. Let me sleep!"

**"Get up now or else I'll open up your head, right here, right now."**

Silence.

**"Three...two..."**

"No. I-I was joking, you're joking right? D-do-"

**"Well you did piss me off." **A vicious chuckle cuts her off clean. **"Oh, you completely asked for it."**

And just as her mouth gaped open in horror, she saw the dark crimson liquid - her liquid, gushing down her face.

So for the third time this night, Hel Glasgard screamed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**3:17 a.m**  
_  
Hel Glasgard. 18 years old. Currently suffering from an unknown strand of psychosis. Involves severe, almost non-stop visual hallucinations. Needs stronger chains + better straitjacket. DO NOT give her medication.  
_

There was a sadistic, ghoulish fascination painted over his face as he jotted down notes while the young girl writhed and squirmed, tears pouring down her cheeks, desperately trying to get out of the straitjacket tying her to the bed. Or so it seems. It's been 4 months, and over 17 asylums later, there still isn't an answer to this one peculiar case of psychosis. To make it worse, she's probably already lost all grip on reality. It's been hardly a week since she murdered that other girl and he was barely able to keep the authorities from euthanizing her, which would have been a complete, utter waste of this thing. After all, he needed to examine her more.

He looked back just as her mad rampage stops, and watched as she wiped away the tears and... beamed? Oh so, very, interesting.

She whispered, then trembled. "I-I-I won't d-do it again!"

While the doctor stood there, staring out beneath his over sized glasses with a now awfully blank face; staying in this psych ward daily had already left him as no more than an echoing, hollow shell. And this girl. How does her visual hallucinations work? How did it get so bad? Would more experimentation show what he has been theorizing all along? A short laugh came out from the girl's corner. He frowned. A new mental illness? That research could get him millions - and a one way ticket out of this place.

* * *

Erandin Psych Ward

The matte black car rolled on quietly, the ride going sleek and smooth. From what it seems, the trip to the psych ward was going to be no more than totally silent. Killua, himself, was quiet, yet, most definitely boiling inside. That guy is the epitome of a seething volcano of bubbling lava just itching to explode. And it's specifically Gon's job to stop that. He'll admit it, Einsa's death clawed at his heart deeply. She was literally a sister to him. They met her around 4 years ago, just when Killua needed someone the most. Well, how they managed to start dating was an entirely different story. Actually, thinking back now, he still doesn't know how those two worked things out. Hm. Killua didn't tell him until Valentine's Day and apparently they've already been dating for 6 months since then. All the guy said was that Gon would be too slow to comprehend it anyways. Harsh as always. But to be honest, he only did understand half of what Killua said.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago and Einsa was hilariously trying to pressure him into marriage. Then, so suddenly and so shockingly, she died. Murdered in the very same church she was to be married in, her head gruesomely bashed open in a scene of sickly, horrendous overkill by what appears to be a schizo lady with a hammer. Everything was caught on camera, yet still covered up. Which means Killua is just dying to take justice into his own hands. The Zoldyck way. Well technically, knowing him, he would've taken it into his own hands even if the murder was brought to light.

He looked over at the silver blob of hair. His precious friend hasn't smiled once ever since the incident. Well, not that he blames him, but no one can keep living like this. It was like... Oh man. The sudden memory struck deep at his heart, leaving Gon temporarily breathless.

_Freyja._

He couldn't believe it. It's already been 5 years.

"Gon."_ Hm? Who called? Wait, did Killua just talk to me?_

"A-Wha-Hm-Yes? Aha...ha..." He awkwardly laughed in surprise.

"Give me 5 minutes with that woman alone. I'll finish this thing once and for all." Gon could feel his own face darken. Oh how this reminded him of Pitou... and Kite. What was he like back then? In the rage filled mode? Was he just like Killua now? No, he was worse. Definitely worse.

"Killua... Do you really think that would be the right thing to do?"

"I don't think. I _know_."

"So you "know" it is right t_o _kill a _mentally ill_ woman?" There was silence.

"I never said I would ki-"

"I don't need you to say it to know you were going to." The silence suffocated the cab again.

"Alright. Since you already know, I'm no longer burdened. I'm gonna do _whatever_ the hell I want with her. Don't try to stop me. Not this time, Gon."

"Killua, don-"

"Sirs. Erandin Psych Ward. We're here. $60 please." The driver interrupted.

"Well I'm gone."

"Killu-"

The door slammed, hard, jerking the cab back and forth. Argh! Okay. Feeling a stare burning a small hole through the middle of his temple, he remembered. Right, the money.

"Here, thanks." Thrusting his hand deep into his pockets, it reappeared with a hundred. "Keep the change and have a great day."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's only been five steps in and a slow chill is already crawling up his back; from the frigid madness, the suffocating insanity. He didn't know about Killua, but to him, this was complete, hysterical psychopathy. The deceivingly beautiful, white exterior housed a delusional spiral of eternal delirium. Blood-curdling howls of misery infinitely bounced off the padded walls towards him; every step of the way, as he placed each foot up the stairs, all the way up to W613 - the girl's room; the killer's room. Come to think of it, he didn't even know her name. Oh. How peculiar, the door's open.

"I'm going with you." Gon assured. His friend coldly shrugged. They slowly walked in a-

.

.

Oh. My.

.

.

Jesus.

.

.

.

.

.

.

So _this_ is true madness.


	2. Chapter 2: Doll x House

**Author's Note:** Oh my gawd guys, so sorry for the late update. I ran into some major, annoying technical issues and had to stop in the middle for like a month. (._.) I swear, won't happen again! Thanks for your ever-so-vast patience, I'll try to add a chapter every 2 - 3 weeks, at the latest, per month. Luv ya. Please review!

Btw. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter and this story in general. As always, I am still a complete newbie so I hope my stories would at least attract a tiny bit a people. Just a tiny bit. That's all that I'm looking for. (=w=)

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Doll x House**

Killua

_This; _the bare room, everything _in_ the bare, white room, "_this"_, was not expected. And I hate to admit it, but Gon's words were on replay; tortuously, endlessly spiraling around deep in my head. Dammit.

**_"So you think it is right t__o _kill a **_mentally ill _**_woman?" _**

So what's the correct thing to do then? Go and talk to her? Mhmm, just nicely go ask that psycho woman:

_"Hey ma'am, I'm not sure you remember, but you just murdered my girlfriend. Can you apologize for that?"_ Should I add a 'please' just 'cause? Screw that - why don't _you_ try. See how that ends up.

"_**What makes us kill?**__" _His breath hitched; ...Freyja?

Oh, no. I can list a hundred thousand reasons why I kill.

**_"...Do you really think that would be the right thing to do?"_**

Stop.

_**"How could revenge taste so sweet if the tree of revenge refuses to carry fruit in the first place?"**_

_Freyja, shut it. You too, Gon. Shut. It.  
_

"Killua. You 'kay?" Gon asked, eyes shrouded with shock and worry, directed to both the crazy inhabitant of W613 and I. I avoided his gaze and stared straight ahead, respiring in a few tanks of sharp, sanitized air then gave a short nod. I wasn't at all mad, no, just didn't feel like talking after that convo in the cab. I took another deep breath and mentally groaned at the distinctly pungent hospital scent as I directed my attention back onto the room.

There was a nen-enforced, transparent barrier separating us from the woman, which felt kind of appropriate. Technically, it would be easy to break down. Made obviously by an Emitter, countered perfectly by a Transmuter like me. Around 300 people housed here, split that nen up and I won't have to use much to knock this wall down. But anyways. That's for later; for when Gon's... out of the way.

I peered inside the wall. New, old, stubbed and even broken art supplies littered the dirty floor, a clear contrast to the cleanliness of everything outside; also noting that only red art supplies are in the room as far as I've noticed. Weird. Everything looks so... fake. Probably the doing of the nen barrier, cartoonizing whatever is beyond it. And the actual walls encasing the room were almost entirely decorated by a mass of jewels over a huge splatter of... what the hell is that?

Gon nudged me, his eyes staring in the same direction.

"Oi, Killua, is that... blood?" Gon whispered slowly, as if reading my mind. The nen barrier was the farthest we could have gone without probably setting off any alarms, and it gave a pretty restrictive view which probably its whole purpose.

"No. Probably pigments from the art-" I pointed at the corner where the woman lay, slowly dissecting an almost life-sized doll with a manic grin plastered to her face. "...- art supplies over there." I finished my sentence carefully. Mentally ill eh?

She had a mop of long, messy, pastel purple hair that drifted all the way down to the floor and a pair of gold and silver eyes - right and left respectively. She was quite bony, and if not mentally unstable, I would say she might even be malnourished. Over her skeletal-like frame, she had on the standard white hospital gown that grazed at her ankles. Interesting. Especially that heart shaped face of hers. Like Freyj-

I caught myself just in time. You're such an obsessive fuck up, Killua. There are millions of people out there with the same heart shaped face, same eyes, same nose as her - there is absolutely nothing special here.

"Excuse me, this patient is not permitted to have any visitors, at _any_ time. Who are you two?" The calm, monotone voice called out from behind. Oi, oi oi, Knuckle said that there wouldn't be anyone in this room at this time. But from what I could feel from his voice and miniscule aura, the guy behind us was not a threat at all. Good.

I met Gon's eyes, no let's rephrase that - Gon's extremely _guilty_ eyes. Aw crap, Gon, don't do this to me, man. Hastily, I gave him the "don't-say-a-word" look. Hesitantly, he nodded. Good, he understo-

"We are so so sorry, sir! You see..." What-oi- Gon! Oh my Jesus. I cursed ever so silently just as Gon spun around, bowed his head and blurted out the apology. Why does this always happen?

"...we are pro Hunters investigating a certain psych ward patient. We uh... we, we... we thought you had known about it." He finished his lie up quickly. Oh. I sucked in a long, sharp breathe. Okay. Then exhaled. Alright Gon, that explanation wasn't half bad. At least, well, at least he's getting better. But now it's time for me to take over.

"Pro Hunters? Well technically no one is allowed here, pro hunter or not. Let me see your licenses."

I reached into the inner breast pocket of my trench and tugged out the card, turned around and flashed it. Gon followed suit. It was a doctor. Another mop of short, messy, navy hair, with those huge glasses covering a pair of hollow, yet sharp eyes. Around the same height as me, a decade and a half older probably, wearing the usual doctor's coat with a pair of shiny, leather brown oxfords.

He nodded to himself after peering at the licenses then slowly gave it back and started staring at the two of us again. I returned it with a cool stare of my own, blinking a few times to add to the charm, while Gon just politely smiled.

"What is it that you need to investigate here? Which patient is it that you need to investigate? I need to at least know the basics if I'm going allow you in." He finally relented as we all relaxed a little. Before Gon could open his mouth, I spoke out, loud and clear.

"We are not investigating anything here, we just needed to see the patient's mental state for ourselves. Nothing more."

He stared at us again then after realizing that we weren't going to say anymore, gave a sigh. Gon sighed with him. I just took a breath.

"Well. I am actually the specialized doctor caring for this patient. Doctor Daimôn. Jinn Daimôn. Sorry about my rudeness, the rules are pretty tight here." He held out his hand.

"Killua." I took his hand. We shook.

"Gon and it's cool."

They shook.

"5 minutes. I apologize, but that's the most I can give you, given the circumstances. And don't touch the barrier. She is extremely unpredictable and dangerous. I hope you get what you need, please don't take my hospitality for granted and have a good day, guys." Doctor Daimôn gave a charming smile and prepared to leave.

"Wait!"

Gon?

"Oh? What is it?" The doctor began.

"Sorry for bothering, but what's her name? Can you tell us her name at least?" Gon asked. Come to think of it, I didn't know her name.

_**"You know, during those assassination missions of yours, didn't you ever wish that you had met the victim under different circumstances? That maybe then, their names might have a different meaning to it?"** _Einsa... Not now, I'm doing this for you.

"Hel Glasgard. 18 years old. Psychiatric disorder. Psychosis diagnosis unknown. I have to pick up some med supplies. Again, please excuse me."

We watched him leave, then turned back towards to the room. Then we watched the Glasgard woman silently for the next 5 minutes.

You could call it a unique work of art. Or, better — the inside of a psychotic killer's head. Yeah, that feels just about right. Shredded fabric and chain links littered the far right corner where her bed resided, presumably from a type of restraint — like a straitjacket. The whole place was dirty, a complete contrast the snow white cleanliness of everything else. Cotton stuffing and doll rags built a mountain on the entire left side, while who knows how many heart shaped jewels are glued on the surrounding walls. Plus the ceiling. So this is probably what she does daily. Killua turned from the ceiling back to the filthy woman currently digging inside another one of her life sized dolls. Jesus. I'm guessing that's where her jewels come from.

_Disgusting._

She is_ disgusting._

Suddenly, the anger ballooned up inside of me and I found myself promptly launching a random ball through the nen barrier as stress relief, watching it ripple for a second then emerge on the other side... as a... cartoon version... of itself. Ahh. So it does cartoonize everything that passes through. Interesting. But...

"Wow, Killua! Did you just see that? The ball..." Gon started, flabbergasted as I decided to drone him out. The anger was still there, but also covered up with a feeling of dread. Disgusting dread. This feels wrong. What feels wrong? The nen barrier? The ball? Damn, stop it Killua, you're thinking too much. But...

...Her face?

Oh fuck it.

* * *

Hel

We watched him leave.

Then we watched them kick a ball towards me. It was a pretty ball. Another one of those ones with thick black lines and pink color and all. So I kept it.

Just Luafer and me now - like always, we ignored the two people standing up at the front. Because Luafer told me to.

He sat on my back as I lay there, trying to find the jewel in the doll.

**"Yeah! Almost there! Good, dig a bit deeper, then use your hands and rip it out!"**

Did he just praise me?! Ah! Dig, dig, dig!

"Fasterrrrrr!"

"Deeperr!"

"Harderrr!"

Then there was no more need for the knife so I threw it away, flicking my wrist out of an unknown habit, my fingers tingling with intense satisfaction as I heard the sickening thud of the knife etching itself deep into the temple of another doll, wedging it to the wall.

Then I found it.

Yes.

And I ripped it out.

Well crap, I tried.

* * *

The Hunters

Gon was disturbed. _Very. _Never once in his life has he ever met such a seemingly unstable person. No. Not even Palm could ever come close, and it's sweet old Palm that we're talking about here. Yet part of him felt for her, anyone cooped up in that dirty, claustrophobic, space would go crazy - but that's part of the treatment apparently. That bony face. The emaciated body. His spine tingled ever so slightly. As well cleaned and sanitized the rest of hallways may seem, it will never wash away the blood curdling screams covered up behind these walls. After seeing her situation for himself, he definitely doesn't believe that Killua should lay a single finger on her. But he knew, he also knew that this visit did nothing but fuel Killua's fire even more. Gon just didn't get it; what is it about watching a mentally ill woman angers Killua so much? All it does is drill a messy hole through Gon's heart - witnessing such a sad life unknowingly slip away.

Killua was disgusted. _Very. _What the hell was going on in that sick, dirty mind of hers? Harder? Faster? Deeper? She is even more idiotically immature than a newborn child. Wouldn't it just be better for everyone if he just ended her life right there right then.

"Would save everyone a lot of money and trouble you know." The white haired young man stated nonchalantly as they both started down the stairs of the 6th floor.

"Stop it, Killua. Do you know how wrong that is?"

"Do you know how wrong _she_ is?"

"Just calm down would you? Calm down and think this through, not as a Hunter, not as a Zoldyck, but as a regular 18 year old dude." Oh. That rhymed... Ahem.

Killua went silent. Gon was stubborn, and so was he. There was no use in going back and forth like this; Killua, himself knew for a fact that he wouldn't be relenting, and in turn, there was no way that Gon was going to back off. Not this time.

Instead, both men stayed to themselves. Thought it all through, thought about everything that had happened, from the very top, to everything they both just saw - the woman herself, the doctor, the knife, the crimson crayon-scribbled walls, the cartoon nen, the cartoonized ball, the jewels and the... almost life-like dolls.

_The almost... life-like dolls._

_The cartoon nen..._

_The jewels..._

_The almost life-like... dolls._

When it finally hit them, they immediately stopped short, and turned to face each other.

"Oh god..." Gon croaked out, his face a mask of horrific dread. His best friend returned his horrified face with another one of his own - one of pure revulsion and vigilante determination as they both whispered out loud in unison.

Crap.

_"The dolls."_

And now, with a newly reinvigorated sense of justice and fiery, Gon and Killua bolted back up the stairs.

Back up to W613.


End file.
